


The Things We Leave Unsaid

by ReinaQueenofDemons



Series: I am the Other [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Gen, Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Supernatural, Reckless/Emotional John, Stanford Years, Winsister, hurt!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:28:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaQueenofDemons/pseuds/ReinaQueenofDemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been twelve years since John let go. Since he broke one of his three promises to Mary. And he hasn't looked back. Not once. Not until tonight. With his friends, himself, and most importantly Dean all badly hurt and trapped, he's forced to come face to face with his broken promise. He needs her help if they're going to make it out alive. And his daughter is forced to race against the clock to save the family she has not seen in twelve years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Riddles in the Dark

“I swear to God, John, we make it out of here alive, and I’ll cook you Christmas dinner.” Dean looked up with a slight smirk, gripping his harness with both hands as he braced his feet against the rocks. The werewolves they’d been hunting had made their den in a mountain slope, and the only way the group of hunters had been able to reach it was to scale the slope with rope and harness. It was painstakingly dangerous, but Dean didn’t mind. He enjoyed the challenge, especially because he was youngest member of the group.

He smiled at the variety of men this hunt had drawn. This particular group of werewolves had been uncommonly active, and his dad had been recruited by Joshua and Caleb. Caleb, the seasoned tracker, had found the den almost a week before, and probably would have raided it had the level-headed Joshua not convinced him that a den of a half dozen werewolves required more than two hunters. So John and Dean had joined the hunting party, and so had Pastor Jim. Then last night ol’ Bobby Singer showed up to show up the group, and he had yet to stop muttering about what idjits they all were. Dean was glad of it, he loved the company of his surrogate uncle, and many of the other men had a hand in raising Dean and his brother, Sam.

Dean tried not to think about Sam, who was tucked safe away at Stanford, and had been for the last six months. He left in anger, fed up with the life, and it broke Dean’s heart. Family was everything to him, and not to have Sammy by his side just felt wrong. Like the world had missed a step.

“Hey Dean, stop day-dreamin and start climbin. I didn’t come all this way to look at your perky rear-end, boy.” Dean glanced down sheepishly at Bobby for a moment and then hurriedly climbed up after his father. Joshua and Caleb were already on the ledge near the den, and they were hauling up the rope. Dean could hear Bobby cussing below him and he slowed his pace down a little to avoid getting too far ahead.

“Hey Joshua, how’s it lookin up there?” His dad’s gruff voice sounded across the mountain walls.

“Lookin good John. I think we’re in for an easy kill.” Joshua called back to him. Dean heard his father gruff in agreement as he reached the ledge. As soon as he was unbuckled he reached down to pull his son up. Dean accepted his father’s hand a bit begrudgingly, as he often did when his father made any move to protect him as his son rather than his partner. Joshua, sensing Dean’s stir of frustration, called the young over to help checking the ammunition.

An uneasy quiet fell over the group as they loaded their weapons. “Anybody actually have a plan?” Pastor Jim asked softly, glancing up at the group. “Or are we going in half-cocked like usual?” He smirked, passing around an open whiskey bottle.

“Dean is the bait. Caleb and I will back him up. The three of you are second string, come in at the signal and finish the job.” John took a long gulp from the bottle and passed it to his son.

“You make it sound so easy.” Caleb said with a grin, grabbing the bottle out of Dean’s hand before he could drink from it. “What are you staring at, Deuce? You heard your old man, grab your gun and get in there.”

Dean remembers standing inside the cave. Just at the point where the light from the torches disappeared and the shadows crept up around him. Gun clenched tightly against his chest he waited. There was movement in the air, and hot breath was suddenly turning at the nap of his neck. In the darkness shapes shifted. Something grabbed him at his leg. He fired. More shots soon followed but the burning sensation traveling up his leg restricted his movement. He was suddenly dizzy and his vision gave out before his body crumbled. He could hear screams, someone was shouting his name, and what sounded like his father yelling, but mostly he just remembers cold blackness.

Pastor Jim put a cold hand over his face and sighed deeply, staring at the reflections of the men through the lapse of flames. They had barely gotten out alive. In some way or another they had been caught. A trap was laid for them. Not half a dozen werewolves lay in wait for the band of hunters, but a solid dozen, and they were angry, and hungry for blood of human hearts. The carnage just inside the cave was enough to turn any man’s stomach. And the injuries suffered by the hunters were no less gruesome.

Bobby finished laying stitches into most of the left side of Caleb’s face before checking the leg that was broken in three different places. The tracker was mostly out of it, thanks to a mix of whiskey and morphine, but he still winced at any kind of jarring to his leg. Joshua wasn’t much better off, his badly broken arm, torn open almost to the bone, was bandaged heavily against his chest and he had stitches clear across the bridge of his nose. Bobby and Pastor Jim escaped with only minor lacerations, the product of a few final swipes by the dying monsters, but John and Dean had gotten the worst of it. John’s left side was all but crushed, leg and arm both broken from the werewolf that had leap at him while he tried to get to his son. His face was badly torn up and littered with stitches to control the bleeding. Dean had been clawed to the bone, his ribs badly broken, as well as his right arm, left wrist, and Bobby was fairly certain both legs. His broken ribs were the worst of it, because it meant he couldn’t take a full breath without searing pain even drugged up with morphine.

“Any brilliant plans to get us out of this one?” Bobby asked, glancing over at the sighing priest.

Jim looked up at him with graven eyes. “Whose the closest hunter we know?” They needed to get down the mountain. Down the mountain and to a hospital. And to do that they needed help. Lots of help. And more medical supplies, ideally.

“Jefferson.” Bobby answered automatically, and then unconsciously looked at John.

“Bobby…” The priest started to argue but the old hunter put up his hand to silence the retort.

“It don’t matter right now, Jimmy. We need Jefferson’s boys if we’re getting these four out of here alive. Johnny can tear us apart for bringing her after we save his life.” The her was John’s 20 year old daughter, Jamie. The daughter he had not seen in twelve years.

“He doesn’t want her in this life.” The other man said, firmly. His index finger jabbing the cold rocky floor to make his point. “We have to accept that.”

Bobby let out a humorless chuckle. “Where have you been? You’ve seen that girl clear as day, don’t lie about it.”

“Yeah, I have seen her. And yes she looks every bit like Mary Winchester and she is John in every other way, but Bobby, that doesn’t-“

“Like hell it don’t. She aint no rookie in the field, she’s as seasoned as they come. You knew Catherine Martin as well as I did, don’t try to tell me she didn’t raise her any different then John raised the boys. That girl is our only hope now. Sam won’t make it out here in time, and that’s a can of worms I really aint itchin to open.”    

In a dimly lit hotel room four figures slumber uneasily. One is laid out on the floor, his shaggy dark hair splayed on the grimy carpet littered with bottles of jack and whiskey. Another, tall and sporting close chopped dark hair, is wrapped in the flowery blanket on the nearest bed, still clad in jeans and boots. In the last bed two drowsy forms are entwined. The smaller, slighter is a pale girl with strawberry blonde hair in falls in waves around her face that’s pressed against the bare broad chest of her blonde haired boyfriend.

The sound of the door being kicked in startles all four from their slumber. The sole occupant of the other bed grabs his gun as he sits up, while the boy on the floor scrambles to his feet. “Dad?” whispers the third man, one strong arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders, the other clasped around his gun. Anthony Jefferson, once dark hair streaked with gray, and a shotgun strapped to his back stands in the doorway illuminated by the weak morning light.

“We gotta go. Get up, hurry.” He speaks gravely, and his weak blue eyes fall on the girl.

“Dad, what’s going on?” The taller brunette, Jefferson’s eldest son, Aaron, grabbed for a gray t-shirt and forces it over his head. His father is still looking at his brother’s girlfriend.

“Jamie…” Jefferson’s voice is low and Jamie Winchester closes sapphire eyes with a petulant sigh. “Dean is hurt bad.” Are his next words, and the girl’s face changes instantly from anger into fear. She squirms out of AJ’s hold and grabs for the black tank top and dark washed jeans hanging on a chair.

“How bad?” Jamie asks as she struggles into her clothes. Two years of hunting with Dan Rivers, and Aaron and Andrew Jefferson has removed any dignity she might have. She dresses in the same room as these men, they’re her friends, her brothers in arms. Aaron hands her her black leather jacket as she’s tying her boots. AJ plots down next to her after hauling on his own jeans and boots, looking for his own leather jacket. “How bad?” She asks again, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“Bad enough. Run in with werewolves. Trap.” Jefferson kicks Dan in the ribs to get him moving faster. The young man protests but doubles his efforts to get his boots and jacket on. “You four get going, I’ll follow. We have to get there fast.” He says to eldest, giving him the same trusting, ensuring stare that Jamie remembers her father giving Dean.

“Jefferson.” Jamie breathes, as pulls her bag over one shoulder. “Did John send for me?” The old man starts to look away, but Jamie grabs his shoulder. “Did my father send for me?”     

“He couldn’t.” He confesses. “He’s dying.”


	2. Hunter's daughter

“He’s dying.” The words haunt Jamie more than spirits in the dark. Her heart pounds and grinds painfully in her chest. Her sapphire eyes weighed down with tears she refuses to shed.

She still remembers the day her father abandoned her. She remembers every detail. How could she not? What eight year old wouldn’t remember the day her daddy wouldn’t even look at her the moment she woke up? It was warm that morning, her birthday, the sun was already hot as it rose across the sky. She and Sam were born on the opposite sides of midnight, him first, her last. And her father didn’t speak to her. Didn’t look at her. When Sam asked where they were going, he refused to reply, and Dean had been the one to hurry them into their clothes and out to the Impala.

She knew. She and Dean had overheard her father and Bobby talking the night before. They had hidden behind the stairs, like they always did when their father and Bobby would get drunk at night and tell stories of their hunts. They never let Sammy know they did this. This was their secret. Sam didn’t know about monsters yet anyway. She did. She had dreams of her father killing monsters, and she had slept in Dean’s bed too many times to not know he kept a gun under his pillow. Dean wised up fast and confessed, even started teaching her how to use his gun, when Sammy was asleep and their father out on a hunt.

She remembers their voices. The sound of Bobby rustling through papers. Of John’s low voice heavy with tears, but firm and strong. Her father told her the wendigo attack the night before had been a dream, but now she and Dean knew otherwise. A wendigo had attacked the motel where they were staying. And she had gotten up to get a drink of water when she heard her father come in. Her father had been luring the monster close, so he could kill it, and Jamie had rushed for her father, right into the wendigo’s path. John recognized her footsteps too late, and dove, knife in hand, and stabbed the beast to death at Jamie’s feet. When he pulled back, blood spurted out, and landed across the little girl’s white nightgown. It sent John into a terrible flashback of the night Mary died. And this little girl, with Mary’s face, Mary’s hair, and blood on her belly, that was enough.

 “You sure you want to do this, John?” Bobby had asked. “You’re giving up your daughter.”

“I don’t have a choice anymore.” Came her father’s reply. Dean had grabbed her and held her tight. “I won’t let her end up like Mary.”

“She won’t ever really be out. You know that.”

“I know. But I’d rather she be safe until she’s old enough to defend herself.”

“I have a place, then. Mercyhurst in Pennsylvania. There is a nun there, a hunter, by the name of Catherine Martin. She’s a wealth of knowledge and experience, seen her share of the life. She’ll understand. But you know Jamie will never forgive you for this. And neither will Sam and Dean.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. They’ll see her again, I know it, but for now she’ll be safe.”

That conversation played through her head that morning. The ride was long, and she slept for most of it, but she remembers Dean’s angry glare pitched at her father. She remembers wondering why they stopped at an old bricked over school, and why there was a nun waiting for them. The woman greeted her father by name, while Dean helped Jamie out of the car. Sam was still asleep inside, and Dean locked the backseat doors when he helped her out. She clung to his jacket, her small fingers wrapped tightly around the leather. “It’s gonna be okay, Jamie.” Dean whispered, smoothing back her hair as he lead her round to where her father and the nun stood. Her small backpack, glinting blue in the early afternoon sun, was enclosed in her father’s hand. Dean shoved her forward to her their father, and then leaned back against the Impala, looking away.

John handed her the backpack, and she took it obediently. He pulled a silver charm bracelet from the pocket of his jacket and held it out for her to see. Charms in the shape of religious symbols glistened in the light. “This belonged to your mother.” He told her, slipping it on her thin wrist. 

 “Daddy.” She said softly, a deep frown creasing her features.

John licked his lips and kneeled down in front of her. “Semper et in Saecula.” He muttered.

“Always and forever.” She said back, feeling tears starting to form.

“Usquequo te amabo et salvabo pro.” His green eyes focused on her face.

She nodded. “How long I will love you for.” It was his way of telling his daughter he loved her. It was the first words in Latin Jamie had learned. They would not be the last. John nodded to the nun, and she took the girl’s hand, leading her away. Jamie didn’t look back. 

Mercyhurst Preparatory School is a boarding school in Pennsylvania, near Lake Erie. It’s run by the Sisters of Mercy, and it’s normally the home of high school aged girls, but Jamie wasn’t exactly sent there for school. She was sent to live in the cloister, to be educated by the sisters until she was old enough to attend classes. Disguised as the orphaned goddaughter of Catherine Martin, John’s instructions included not allowing her to use the name Jamie Winchester, instead she was to be known as Jace St.Mark.

If John’s intentions were ever to keep her from hunting, they were lost almost immediately. Catherine taught her Latin and Greek, taught her lore, let her read every book about every monster known to man, demon, and angel. By the time she was old enough for classes she could translate almost any ancient language. Raised a devout Catholic, she was a natural exorcist. Paired with the fearlessness of her father, and the stubbornness of her older brother, she grew into a hunter. At 15, after witnessing Catherine attacked by a vampire, she was baptized into the life, sneaking out at night to banish ghosts and exorcize demons. She hid salt rounds under her mattress, and stitched gashes in the girl’s bathroom after lights out. The second she turned 18 she packed her stuff, and left without looking back.

That’s when Jefferson found her.

At first glance there wasn’t much to the short, slight eighteen year old with wavy blonde hair pinned back, and wide sapphire eyes, dressed in ripped jeans and a black tank top under a slim fitting leather jacket and hiking boots. He was slightly skeptical that a girl, even a Winchester, raised in a convent could be much of a hunter. But Jefferson would never forget the way she carried herself: confident, a little arrogant, strong, her father’s daughter. She had John’s presence, he would never despite that. Ever. And she was John’s daughter, when he watched her hunt, watched her move, she moved like a Winchester, and she had the bullheaded shoot-first-ask-questions-later attitude. She couldn’t have been anymore like her father then if John had raised her himself.

“Aaron and I will ride with Jefferson.” Dan’s voice breaks Jamie’s thoughts and she looks up with a slight shudder.

AJ is nodding, the keys to her beloved black silverauto pickup in his hand. “We’ll follow you. Let’s go.” He grabs her arm and she quickly hurries beside him to the truck. “We’re going to save them, Jace.” He slips one hand into hers, his fingers are icy in her flaming grip. Fire and Ice. Aaron and Dan teased them relentlessly that it was love at first sight, and it was. They would never admit it, but it was. She was fire to be tamed, and he was ice to be shattered. They completed each other. They made each other whole.

He was…sorta how she imagined Dean would be: strong, and silent, and cold and just very rough around the edges. But at the same time, he would let down his guard around her. He was open to her. He liked to drink and fuck, but what twenty one year old guy didn’t, but he also liked to talk, at least with her. Her life, herself, it intrigued him for one reason or another. He liked to listen to her stories. They talked about hunting, about lore, about the right way to kill a vampire or skin a wendigo, but they also talked about music, and movies, and the future. He never judged her. He tried to own her, to contain her, even though she was his. And when he looked into her eyes he never say her as anything but what she was. And she never saw him as anything but what he was. He was Andrew James Jefferson, period. Not AJ the hunter, or AJ the conartist mechanic, just AJ. She was Jamie Cameron Winchester, period. Not Jace the hunter, Jace the vampire slayer, Jace the girl who was great at hustling pool and cheating at poker, just Jace.   

“Jace?” He glanced over at her, about a hundred miles later. “You’re quiet.” He said softly, blue eyes still flickering over the road.

“I’m just…I feel guilty.” She admitted. “I hate him, AJ. I hate him so damn much.” Hatred, anger, they were the default emotions she put up to avoid feeling terrified and helpless. But mostly she was worried for Dean. If Dean died she’d never forgive herself. But her father. A small part of her beckoned her to not care, as long as Dean lived, not to care.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay. There’s a lot emotions getting thrown around right now. Just don’t…don’t get consumed, okay.” He squeezed her hand. Okay.          

 


	3. Pieces of my Broken Life

Bobby groans in annoyance when weak light from the rising sun penetrates his eyes. He rubs them with the back of his hand and glances around the cave. Pastor Jim is squatting beside the smoking embers from last night’s fire. He turns slightly and nods to the old hunter. “Jefferson is on his way. Should be here in about an hour.”

Bobby nods, getting to his feet despite the protest in his back. He adjusts the cap on his head and then stares around at the other hunters. “What’s the damage report?” He asks.

“Well Joshua’s gonna keep that arm, I think. No infection. Caleb is still kinda out of it but I expect by the time Jefferson gets here he’ll be kicking up a fuss. John’s burning up, I got him knocked out but he really aint great.”

“And Dean?” The old priest looked at Bobby with solemn eyes and Bobby didn’t dare ask again. He simply glanced in the direction of Dean’s cot. “Damnit kid.” He breathed. “Just hang on a little longer. Your sister is coming for ya.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Dan spat unto the ground and then lit a cigarette as he stared up at the mountain. “They’re all the way up there?”

Aaron rolled his eyes as he got some more gear out of Jamie’s truck. “Yeah, they’re up there. And we gotta go get um.” He opened a duffel and pulled out nylon cord and utility belts. “You’re going first, princess.”

Dan’s face fell and he nearly choked on the cigarette. “What? You’re kidding me! I’ve never rock climbed in my life!” Aaron tossed one of the belts to him and then stood up to strap into his own harness. “I’m a smoker!” He protested again, vainly, as Aaron walked away. 

“Jamie, you alright?” Her boyfriend’s big brother approached where she was busy strapping in. She looked up from her belt and nodded. “Good. Now you’re the lightest so I want you going last. Once AJ and I make it up, we can basically pull you and the supplies up, alright?”

“Yeah. Alright.” She said softly, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. He gave her a look and she replied with a confident nod.

“Okay, here’s the bag.” AJ brought the bag over and strapped it carefully unto his girlfriend.

“Get your ass climbing, boy!” Aaron yelled to Dan who muttered something under his breath before starting up the mountain. “Faster!”

AJ and Jamie looked at each other and laughed softly, before walking closer to the rocky walls. This wasn’t the first time Jamie had been rockclimbing. She went once on a school trip. Under any other circumstance she might have actually enjoyed it, but her mind was on her father, and her brother. She climbed at a hurried pace, until Aaron yelled down that she was going too fast.

“Bobby! Jimmy!” Dan yelled, as he reached the edge. “Someone gimme a hand.” He coughed bitterly as he was helped unto the ledge and crawled forward before starting to unbuckle himself.

“Hey guys.” Aaron pulled himself up unto the ledge, followed shortly by AJ. The two brothers then pulled Jamie up behind them. Jamie hastily moved to unbuckle herself from the harness and the bag. “Woah. Woah, Jace, calm down.”

“Get this off me! Get this off me!” She demanded. AJ grabbed her hands and Aaron unstrapped her himself. Once she was free she rushed into the cave, only to be caught in Bobby’s arms. “Bobby.” She breathed in the scent of whiskey and knew him immediately.

“Hey. Hey. Jamie, my god. Let me look at you a minute.” The old hunter stared her up and down, his heart warmed by the sight of her.

“Later Bobby.” She moved out of his grip and walked further into the cave.

“Jamie.” Caleb said weakly, knowing the girl on sight. “Look at you.”

“Hey Caleb.” She said softly, not stopping. John’s cot was the closest, but she needed to see Dean. “Dean.” Her breath caught in her throat when she saw her older brother, torn to hell, pale, and shivering. “Oh God.” She sunk to her knees and grabbed Dean’s hand. “Dean.”

He didn’t respond to her voice. His eyes remained shut, his body continued to quake with tremors, but he didn’t squeeze her hand. He was oblivious to her presence. AJ stopped a few feet behind her, not wanting to get closer. He knew better. He watched silently as she brushed the bandage on his face, taking in the features mingled by ripped flesh and dried blood. She racked her fingers through his light brunette hair, not caring that dirt and blood stuck to her skin.

“We can’t move him. He’ll die on the way down. Unless he gets stronger by some miracle, he’s not going to make it.” Pastor Jim laid a warm hand on AJ’s shoulder.

AJ cast a sideways glance in the priest’s direction. “So what do we do? Pray?” He spat the word bitterly. His girlfriend might be a devout Catholic, a quiet practitioner of an ancient religion, but he was staunchly atheistic. He had seen enough to not believe in a merciful God, if God existed he was a dick. Granted, Jamie thought the same way. She didn’t practice religion for God, she practiced it for the ritual, for the strength to repel demons, for archangel she held close to her heart, for the Virgin mother she had looked to in the absence of her own. Pastor Jim frowned as the boy’s tone.

Aaron approached and stood at his brother’s other side. “Deuce is barely hanging on?” It was a question that needed no answer. The older brother studied his younger brother’s face in the weak light.  

“This is going to kill Jamie.” He hissed. “Do you understand? If Dean dies it will tear her apart. Nevermind what this will do to Sam.”

Aaron nodded as he crossed his arms and took a breath. “Alright. We’re not just going to leave him. We’re going to get him stronger. Dan and I will help Bobby and Pastor Jim take Joshua, Caleb, and John out of here, and then I’ll come back to help you and Jamie.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere.” Bobby protested, walking over to them. “I love that boy like a son. I aint about to leave him.”

“Bobby…” Aaron said gently. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s a couple of scratches. Nothin I aint had and fought with before. I’m stayin, boy, besides I out rank you, and I got more medical experience between the three of ya.”

“Alright. Dan, come on.” Aaron turned around and walked back to the opening of the cave.

“Jamie.” The blonde looked up towards where Caleb was calling for her. “Come over here and help a soldier up.” Reluctantly Jamie dropped Dean’s hand and backed away slowly, going over to help her father’s best friend. “My god, you’re a sight.” He said groaning painfully as she got him unto his feet. He leaned into her heavily. “You’ve got Johnny’s constitution.”

Jamie rolled her eyes, glancing at him. “You’re high off the morphine.”

“Shut it, girl. I’m complimenting ya.” He shot back as she held him steady for Aaron and Pastor Jim.

“Being compared to my father is hardly a compliment in my book.” She told him as she watched them taking him down.

“It should be.” It was Joshua. Jamie turned around at the low voice. Her father had designated Caleb to watch over her while she was a child at Mercyhurst, she had kept in contact with the arms dealer mostly because she had run away a couple times and Caleb had always been the one to find her and bring her back. After she left Caleb sometimes hunted with her and her friends. But Joshua, she had not seen Joshua in twelve years. Even now, seeing the large, tired, middle age African American with big dark eyes almost intimidated her. Almost. “It should be.” He repeated.

“Hi Joshua.” She said softly, walking over to him.

“You look like your mother. You got her colorin’ and her eyes.” He told her, those wide dark eyes focused on her face. “But Cal’s right, your presence is all Johnny. You stand like him, you carry yourself like him, that arrogant Winchester swagger, and hell you probably shoot like him.” He was trying to coax a smile out of her and he got a small one. He smiled to see her smile. “You smile like him too. It’s not a bad thing, honey; you should appreciate the things your Daddy gave you. You might not remember it all, but one way or another, the woman you are is cause of him. Now help an old man get down this hill would ya?”

Once Joshua and Caleb were down with Jefferson Jamie stood hesitantly looking at her father’s cot. “He’s not going to be happy to see me.” She said, looking to Bobby and Aaron.

“He’s half out of it. He’s not gonna know you’re actually here.” Bobby waved off her doubts and went over to the cot. “John, time to wake up, we gotta get you out of here.”

John opened his eyes slowly, groaning softly with the pain that came. “Bobby? How’s Dean?” He cared about his kids. He may not have always shown it, but he cared a lot. And nothing, not injury, not even death could make him forget that Dean was badly hurt.

“We’re gonna take care of Dean.” Bobby said softly. “But you first.”

“No.” He protested. “Dean’s hurt worse. You gotta help him.”

“Daddy.” Jamie forced out. John’s deep green eyes rapidly moved in her direction. Her voice was unmistakable. Her shoulders were trembling, and she wrung her hands, staring almost frightened at her father.

“Bobby…wha-“

“You and Dean need help. I’m the help.” She said, taking a step forward. Her father raised his shoulders, still staring at her.

“Mary?” He asked, his eyes filling with horror. “Mary, what, but how…”

Jamie blinked back tears. “No Dad.” She muttered, shaking her head.

“Jamie.” He closed his eyes with a deep sigh. “Oh god, girl. What…what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”      


	4. Cause dyin' just aint easy enough

 

“I called Jefferson.” Bobby answered. “We needed his boys and Jamie to get you idgits off this mountain.”

“Bobby-“

“Shut up, Winchester. Your boy is gonna die unless we can stabilize him and get him off this rock. You can put aside this stupid disregard you have for your own daughter for a couple days.”

Jamie turned away, wiping away tears with an impatient hand. She really didn’t expect this to go any differently. She knew her father would not be happy to see her. She knew her father wouldn’t be happy that she was a hunter. But her father’s happiness didn’t matter. Her brother was what mattered now. She knelt down at Dean’s side and grabbed his hand, tuning out the sounds of her father cussing Bobby’s out.

“Jace, we’re moving him now.” Aaron put his hand on her shoulder. “No change with Deuce huh?” He knelt down beside her, his blue eyes wandering over her brother.

“He’s still out, yeah. Pulse is thready. Breathing is labored.” She told him.

“John just talk to her for 5 fucking minutes!” Bobby swore behind them. “She’s a lot like you, I’m sure you got something in common, if nothing else the bullheaded arrogance is a dead ringer.”

Aaron glanced at Jamie and rubbed her arm comfortingly. She pulled away from him and grabbed unto Dean’s hand. “Hey Dean, it’s me. It’s Jamie. I know you’re in there, big brother. You gotta fight through this.” She squeezed his hand.  

“I don’t want to talk to her, Bobby. I don’t want her here. She should have never-“

“Will both of you shut the hell up!” AJ yelled shoving between the two of them. He pointed firmly over to Jamie and Dean. “Deuce is dying, and right now Jace is the only person who can help him. So both of you put your junk away and stop arguing about my girlfriend.” He glanced between Bobby and John. “Sirs.” He added, swallowing thickly.

Dean’s emerald eyes slowly opened. His vision was hazy at first, as the numbness of unconsciousness gave way to searing pain. But through the pain he heard her voice. At first it had been his mother, but as it continued he realized it wasn’t her, it was the other. The voice he had dared not even hope to hear again. His sister’s voice. “Ja-Jay…” His swollen throat could not form the syllables.

“Oh my god, Dean.” The blonde haired girl lurched forward and gently laid her head on his chest. “Oh my god. I’m gonna get you out of here, big brother. I’m gonna get you help. You’re gonna be okay. Just stay with me. You can hear my voice, just stay with my voice.”

“Deuce is conscious.” Aaron said, turning back to the group.

“His vitals are stabilizing for now, but I doubt they’ll last. We’ve gotta move him now.” Jamie said firmly, raising her head towards Aaron.

“Alright, chance of plans Deuce goes first. AJ, help me. We gotta work around Jace.”

“Get me strapped in, you two are gonna have to help me take on his weight.”

“Ugh!”

“Jace?” Twin sets of eyes as blue as Jamie’s own fly up to meet hers.

“I’m alright, he’s just heavy.”

“Slow down a little, AJ. It’ll keep some of the pressure off Jace.”

Dean’s vitals are stable as long as he knows his sister is with him. The warmth of her skin forces heat back into his body. The smell of her hair lights up his senses. The sound of her voice keeps him from slipping away.

Before he realizes it’s happened, he’s off the mountain. Suddenly a warm blanket takes the place of his sister’s skin. His head is pillowed, and he’s moved without jarring. He fights the urge to sleep. He fights it hard, grabbing unto Jamie’s hand and squeezing for dear life. She doesn’t stop speaking. She babbles on about the Jay Hawks, and when she can’t find anything else to say about them, she starts speaking to him in Latin even though he can only understand a word or two. At one point she starts to sing.

She sings Hey Jude and it sounds like his mother singing, so much so it startles him and he forces his eyes open for a long moment. It’s the first time he’s able to really look at his sister. Her complexion is ruddy from the sun and the heat and years of hunting, but underneath the damage done it’s ivory pale and beautiful. There are dark circles under her eyes and it makes her irises look like sapphires. Her hair is blonde, but the tint it carries is a pale orange instead of sandy. It’s naturally wavy, like their mother’s, like Sam’s. And he’s almost happy to find a glimmer of Sam in her, because she resembles himself so much.

“Where’s Dad?” His voice is weak, barely there, and it hurts to talk.

“With Aaron and Bobby.” She answers. “Don’t try to talk, Dean.”

“They’re right behind us, Deuce.” AJ adds from the driver’s seat.

He doesn’t want to shut his eyes. He doesn’t want to drift off. He doesn’t want to let her go. But the lights of the emergency room roll past him, the damn oxygen mask over his face, and the stabbing burn of an IV, and the voices, they all force his eyes closed. “Jamie!” He manages to yell, but it’s muffled. One of the nurses is pulling her away, but he’s got ahold of her hand and he’s not gonna let her go.

“Please. I’m his sister, please.” He hears her beg. “He needs me.” And then it’s black again. AJ grabs Jamie around the waist, holding her still as Dean’s stretcher is raced down the white-lit hallway. “He needs me.” She whispers, and her boyfriend’s head comes down unto her shoulder.

Bobby and Jefferson come out to them sometime during the night. Aaron is asleep, uncomfortably, in one of the waiting room chairs, his head resting on his arm that’s propped up over the back. Dan’s chin rests on his palm, his eyes screwed shut and muscles tensed. Jamie is sprawled out on a couch-like chair, her head on AJ’s lap. He’s awake, though, and he cautiously shakes her shoulder to awake her. “What’s going on?” It’s Aaron who asks, jolted awake by the light sounds of footsteps.

“Well Joshua and Caleb are free to go, I’m gonna run them up to Rufus’s cabin for a couple weeks or so, and then I’m sure we’ll be trappin after something.” Jefferson explains.

Aaron nods. “Alright, Dad. What do you want us to do?”

“Got word of a murder up in Camden.”

Dan’s head comes up and he snickers. “Yeah Camden is kinda known for that sorta thing.”

“In a locked house, with no windows broken. The murder weapon aint got fingerprints.” Jefferson shoots back, a little annoyed. Dan shuts right up.

“Right. You and I better get to checking that out.” Aaron gets up and grabs his boots.

“What about us?” AJ asks, turning to his father.

“Well Johnnie and Deuce are pretty banged up.” Jefferson tells him, purposely not looking at Jamie.

“Yeah. Lookin at probably a three or four day stay, and then we’re truckin back to my place so Dean can heal up.” Bobby adds. “If John aint got a problem, then you two are welcome to come back with me. I could use the help.”

“If John aint got a problem.” Jamie echoes.

“Hell, any other situation I’d say to hell with John’s opinion, but Dean needs some serious healing and…”

“Nah, I got it.” She stands up and rolls her shoulder. “Can I see Dad?”

“Sam is gone, Dad. He aint coming home anytime soon! I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.” The daughter stubbornly crosses her arms over her chest and stares hard at her father, who sets his jaw and gives her the same arrogant, ardent look.

“What is it gonna take for you to get it, girl?” John sneers, his voice drips venom. “I don’t want you here.” It’s a lie. And under the anger and the fake-hatred John knows it’s the worst lie he’s ever told in his life. He wants his daughter with him. He wants to see her every day, and not from afar or hear about her from friends and other hunters. He wants her by his side, with her brothers, where she belongs. He wants his family whole. But he promised Mary he’d protect his daughter, and the farther she is from him, the safer she’ll be. For now. Watching her face, the way her eyes go wide and tears well up, but are quickly suppressed with renewed anger, and hatred. A defensive reaction, just like her brothers. He’d be damned, she is just like them. “Jamie…” His voice is softer now. “I didn’t…” But it’s too late. She rushes out of the room, and he knows he’s not gonna see her again for a long time, if ever. He’s gonna take this and every other thing to his grave. The things he wants to tell her, the things he leave unsaid, will haunt him to his death.   

There are tears in her eyes when she says goodbye. And she makes sure she says goodbye, because her father can go to hell, she’s spent twelve years dreaming of seeing her family again, and she deserved to have this moment with her brother, Dean deserved a proper goodbye.

The monitors are beeping quietly, and she tries to not look at all the wires and tubes. It’s a mess of snake-like figures all coiled around her pale and battered brother. “Next time we meet let’s not do this, okay bro?” She says quietly from across the room. It takes her a minute. She has to force herself over to the bed, but as soon as she’s there she grabs his hand and slips her fingers between his. “Look don’t…don’t yell at Dad when you wake up, okay? He’s not worth it.”

She rubs her thumb over the pale skin on her brother’s hand, the friction creating a bit of warmth. “I love you Dean.” There’s a dragging sensation the next time her thumb passes over the spot. In her mind something pulls at her. Strained like unbound coil her mind is suddenly wrapped with images that play quickly before her eyes. Two years down the road, in front of an old house in Lawrence she’s got her arms around her brother, with Sam standing just behind, looking bewildered and amazed. Three years, her blonde hair dyed dark, she’s standing beside her brothers in an open field, watching a body go up in brilliant bright flame. Four years and Sam’s face, cold and still as a corpse invades her sight. Five years, Dean’s bloody body graces her lap. In six years she sees herself display powers she can only imagine, while a trenchcoated angel watches from the sidelines. Seven years and she stares the devil in the face, only he has her twin brother’s eyes. Eight years, her shoulders ache from the strain of holding wings. Nine years and she reaches down to stroke her pregnant stomach. A decade in the future and there’s a blue eyed boy in her arms who looks just like Dean. Another year, she holds that boy in one arm, while with the other extended a demon bursts from its meatsuit in black smoke. When the smoke vanishes she looks down and sees Dean’s hand once again. Her eyes are heavy and her head hurts as she staggers back, unable to process what has just happened.

“Jamie?” AJ is standing outside the door, and he steps forward to grab her. “What is it?”

“I’m alright. It’s nothing.” She tells him, taking a step forward again. “You ready to go?” She does look at him. She’s holding Dean’s hand again. He can hear the anguish in her voice. “We should probably head up after Aaron and Dan.”

“Yeah. Yeah we should.” He agrees.

She nods, and then bends forward, bringing Dean’s hand up to her lips. “I’ll see you later, bro.” She whispers into the scarred, callous flesh. And she means it. She knows that now.   


	5. I am the Other

 

A few weeks later…

An old wooden door is pried open, and the inhabitants of the back-woods bar, hunter-friendly by the looks of the symbols carved into the beams, all turn to see two blonde haired figures. The girl enters first, she’s wearing jeans, and a leather jacket that she takes off as she enters the room. There’s mud on her boots and her tank top and red flannel shirt are stained with blood. The man’s jeans are slashed, and stained so that no one can tell which is blood and which is dirt. His heavy leather jacket hides a gunshot wound that immobilizes his right shoulder for the time being. They both wear guns and knives at their belts. Their expressions are dark.

“Howdy.” The bartender calls. “What can I do for you two?”

AJ looks up, his expression still dark but stoic. “We ganked a shifter just outside El Paso, we need a place for the night.”

Jamie nods, moving her hair back from her face. “And we need to know where we can find the nearest arms dealer. We’re out of silver bullets.”

“I got a spare room upstairs, and Roy over here can get ya what you need.” The pudgy bartender says carefully, his sharp eyes never leaving their faces. “What are your names?”

“I’m AJ Jefferson.”

The bartender’s eyes light up in recognition. “You’re ol’ Anthony Jefferson’s boy.”

“I am.”

He nods to Jamie. “This your girl?”

Jamie scoffs, tensing slightly at the implied context. “I’m nobody’s girl. I’m Jace Winchester.”

“Winchester?” One of the patrons looks up towards her. “You John’s kid? The hunter there’s been talk about?”

Jamie is quiet for a moment. “No, sir. I’m not that hunter,” She finally answers. “I am the Other.”


End file.
